Desire and Fantasy
by Leonidas701
Summary: Desire is a part of growing up, but one that Fie never really experienced until she enrolled at Thors academy and was surrounded by people her own age. Attractive people her own age. Eventually those desires found a solid target, and so began the fantasies. ElliotxFie. References to touching yourself but extremely vaguely.


You can't grow up in a band of mercenaries and not pick up some things, things that a child Fie's age was definitely not supposed to have heard about at the time. Most of Zephyr had been considerate enough to keep things age appropriate for Fie as she grew up, but when the liquor started to flow around the campfire in the aftermath of a hard-fought battle, some things did slip.

One time in particular stood out to Fie. It was early in her first year with the group. She overheard a conversation between the people sitting near her in the campsite. They were talking about going into town during their next day off for some 'action' and 'relief' at a place called the Shredded Skirt. The way they were talking about it made it seem clear they weren't talking about fighting, but that didn't help her understand what it was they were actually talking about.

When the boss came around to put her to bed, she told him about the situation and asked what it meant. He got a look on his face unlike any she had ever seen before. It wasn't his serious face, she had seen that plenty of times. It wasn't his sad face either; she hadn't seen that as often but it was always in situations that had been burned into her brain. It was almost apologetic? But firm at the same time. His voice was strange when he spoke, warm but distant.

"I'll explain it to you when you're older," he said. He gave her a gentle pat on the head and left the tent they shared. Shortly after his exit she heard the sound of footsteps, like the whole corps was gathering. There wasn't any aura of danger and she had already been put to bed, so she ignored it.

That was the last she heard of people getting 'action' or 'relief' until she was twelve years old and the boss sat her down and gave her The Talk. He had books and pamphlets and a strange blush like nothing she had seen on him before. After he was done, and answered any questions she could think of, one of the high-ranking female officers in Zephyr came in and told her things that he just couldn't explain to her, as well as advice and a more philosophical view of the whole thing.

After that, the other's started talking about the subject more openly around her, which she appreciated. To Fie, it felt like they had lost some of the tension that everyone held around her. It made her feel like a more equal part of the family.

But, even after the talk, she never really understood what the big deal was. She had some flashes of the feelings here and there, but nothing as intense as what the others talked about.

Then she joined Thors Academy, and it all made sense. Surrounded for the first time in her life by people close to her own age, attractive people, those feelings build up inside of her. She found her thoughts in class and in her relaxation times drifting to faces and bodies in ways they never had before. As the months went on, the body and face of one person in specific became more and more prominent.

* * *

The first time Fie saw Elliot, she didn't think much of him. Even during their orientation exercise, he more or less escaped her notice. It wasn't until the following night that one could say they had been properly introduced.

Fie had gotten settled in the only dorm room remaining after the other girls had gotten moved in and Valestein invoked what she called 'instructor privilege' to have no one sleeping in the room across from her. The bed was fine. The sheets were fine.

She couldn't fall asleep. It was nothing new for her. Ever since the boss had disappeared, she had been having trouble drifting off. She could still get in her little rests here and there, but proper sleep had been elusive. It wasn't that she didn't feel safe; the reputation of Thors in general and the Purple Lightning in specific all but guaranteed her safety in this bedroom. It was just that she couldn't relax.

Being apart from her corps; her family; the boss, it just felt wrong. Wrong in the pit of her stomach, in a way that hadn't eased since the others had left her.

There was a sound of soft clanging downstairs. An intruder? Probably not. But whatever it was it had to be better than laying in bed, wondering why her family had abandoned her.

She left her room and went downstairs, bringing one of her gunswords with her but doubting she would have to use it. Her footsteps made no noise, leaving the clanging as the only sound to be heard until it stopped and was replaced by a hiss and soft scraping noise.

It was coming from the kitchen. The door swung open softly and the noise got louder, joined by the soft yellow glow of the stovetop light.

Fie's eyes adjusted quickly to the sudden shift in light, and her nose picked up a scent. Boiling chicken stock, and eggs.

The boy at the stove had not noticed her entry. She stood in the doorframe, watching him as he swirled a spoon around the inside of a pot and cracked a pair of eggs into it. Every couple of seconds he would hum softly, then seem to cut himself off.

A minute or so passed. He raised the spoon to his lips and nodded. The flame of the stove was turned off and the boy turned around. It was now that he finally became aware he was not alone.

He yelped, louder than any other noise tonight but still not something that could be called objectively loud. The spoon fumbled out of his hand and he flailed his hands wildly, chaotically juggling the piece of metal until he had succeeded in firmly grasping it and not allowing it to clatter on the floor. He breathed a small sigh of relief and then sheepishly looked up at Fie. His cheeks bore a small blush.

"I- I'm sorry. Did I wake you up with my cooking? I was trying to be quiet, but I guess it didn't work." He shyly rubbed the back of his head with his free hand as he looked at Fie, waiting for a response that never came. He cleared his throat awkwardly and broke eye contact with the young jaeger, moving to the cupboard a little too quickly to be relaxed. "I-," he started before sighing and hanging his head. "S- sorry, again. Uhm… Would you like some? I made enough for two people, n-not that I thought anyone was going to come down or anything, I'm just… I'm used to cooking for two." The last part was muttered as the boy took a single bowl out of the cupboard and sheepishly waited for Fie's response.

She didn't say anything, just walking over to the empty table and pulling out a chair for her to sit in. You never knew when you'd be able to get your next meal, so eat when you can. Don't be foolish, don't make any promises, but don't be paranoid. The boss had taught her that. The memory of that lesson flashed in her mind as she settled into her seat, and the feeling in the pit of her stomach got even worse. She didn't have much time to linger on it before a bowl was placed in front of her.

"It's pretty simple," he said apologetically. "I just didn't want to use up too much of the ingredients here. I have no idea how often they are restocked or what they're used for or who gets to decide who gets to use them or… anything really." As he spoke his voice got smaller and smaller until the sentence finished out in a mumble.

The steam from the soup felt good on her cheeks. Fie closed her eyes to let the sensation wash over her. There was a soft scraping noise as the boy pulled out a chair of his own and got settled across from her. She could hear his spoon clinking against the inside of the bowl.

"I'm Elliot," he said after swirling his soup in silence for several seconds. "Your name is… Fie, right?"

His words just washed over Fie. Like the smell and heat of the soup, she only paid attention to them as a sensation, a momentary distraction from the feelings she tried to stop from thinking about and causing herself more pain.

"I… I hope you enjoy the soup," he said, trying to put on a hospitable tone of voice and not quite succeeding. "And I'm sorry again for waking you up."

Fie didn't say anything.

"I shouldn't have let this bother you. It's just… I haven't been this far from home in… ever really. Not on my own, at least. I guess…" Elliot sighed and looked down into his soup, not really even talking to her at this point. "I'm just feeling homesick," he muttered.

"...Me too," said Fie as she opened her eyes and took her first spoonful of soup.

They ate at their own pace. The silence wasn't awkward or companionable or tense, it just… was.

"This is tasty."

"Thank you."

* * *

The following months brought about changes in Fie. Her and Emma became friends. She joined the gardening club and learned she enjoyed seeing her work gradually give her results. And she noticed the students around her, noticed some of them noticing her, and started to have fantasies like she had been told about by the woman when she was twelve. But no one stood out, or particularly starred in them. They were just bodies and faces to attach to tangentially related feelings as she dealt with them, slotting them into whatever scenario struck her fancy.

* * *

Their next real encounter came May 31st, the day Fie revealed to the rest of the class who she was. Her classmates all verbalized their acceptance of her and then went off to catch up on their sleep before the next day of classes. She hadn't been able to sleep; a still common, though gradually becoming less so, occurrence.

So, she went out for a walk. She went around Trista, listening to the soft rustling of trees and babbling of the river under the stars.

She reached the edge of the town and turned on her heel to head back to the dorm. As she did, the wind shifted direction; carrying with it the soft sound of music. It was clear sleep could not yet take her, so she decided to follow the music rather than return home.

The sound lead her onto the school campus, growing louder as she went north and then west. As she stood at the entrance to the academy field, she could make out an unmistakable silhouette in the moonlight.

"Hey," she said, her soft tone of voice carrying easily across the grassy field. The music briefly stopped and Elliot turned to her.

"Hi, Fie," he said with a soft smile, his violin still tucked under his chin. "I couldn't sleep, figured I would come out here and play myself a little lullabye. I figured this was far enough away that no one in town could hear me."

"No one else probably can," said Fie as she walked down to the field. "I couldn't sleep either. Can I listen in?"

Elliot nodded. "Of course."

Fie took a seat on the stairs as Elliot resumed play. He was different with a bow and violin in his hands than he had been with a spoon. Under the full moon, she thought she could see an expression on his face she had only ever gotten glimpses of before; during their combat training. Upon further inspection she concluded it wasn't the same. It had the same level of focus, of care, of awareness, but none of the nervousness she could see when he had the staff in his hands. In its place was confidence. Where messing up in a battle might cause him to break focus entirely and have to scramble to get it back, him making a mistake during the song was accompanied merely by him tilting his head and making a mental note as his fingers soldiered on, not even slowing down.

His fingers… They moved precisely, fluidly, like each had a mind of its own and knew the others would do their jobs perfectly.

The sound enveloped her as she let it wash over, telling her a story of emotions with no words and leaving her satisfied. When the end came, it felt like waking up from a nap of the perfect length.

Elliot bowed to her, as musicians are meant to do to their audiences. "What did you think?" he asked as he packed his violin into its carrying case.

"It was pretty."

Elliot smiled. "Thanks. I do this a lot," he said as he straightened up, the confidence not yet having fully him. "If you'd like, I can message your ARCUS when I do?"

Fie nodded. "That'd be nice."

The silence returned during the walk back.

* * *

Weeks had gone by. Every few nights, Elliot would send her a message that he was going out to the field. Sometimes she would be awake, and join him. Sometimes she would already be asleep. It was over a month before she noticed she had started staying up a little later than usual on nights when she saw the redhead seeming restless at dinner.

Then came the trip to Heimdallr. On their second night, Fie heard the floorboards of the old bracer building creaking. Just in case, she got out of bed and grabbed her weapons. But, just in case it was nothing, she didn't wake up the others.

It so happened that she was right to err on the side of caution. It was just Elliot. He had gotten dressed and was exiting the building.

Fie would be lying if she said she knew her classmate particularly well, they didn't talk much during those nights, but it seemed out of character for him to be sneaking out at night like this. Just to make sure nothing was up, she pulled her clothes on and followed him.

It wasn't a long trip. He just went down the street and into his home. She could see his sister's arms reach out to hug him before he stepped inside.

Just in case it was his sister that was somehow in trouble, Fie had seen multiple kinds of issues that could plague nice young women during her time in Zephyr, she stayed outside the house in case Elliot went off to deal with it.

A couple minutes passed, and nothing. Then, faintly, she could hear music coming from inside the house. This was different from the music he played during those nights in the field. That music was for his sake first and foremost, with her just there to observe. This music was directed. Specifically, it was directed at his sister, trying to show her how he had grown.

Fie felt awkward as she listened to it. She was not meant to hear this. It was clear Elliot and his sister were fine, so she silently went back to the old bracer building.

Much as she hadn't been meant to hear it, the experience left a mark on Fie. It was the first time one of her fantasies started with the person, and the scenario built out from them. In her mind, the red-headed musician played for her that night.

* * *

His fingers.

His face.

His voice.

The fantasies shifted. Instead of coming up with them as she dealt with her desire, she started to find herself in fantasy and the desire followed. Then the desire started to shift, growing multi-faceted. It wasn't until she was crouching by her flowers, watering them with one hand while staring at the other and wondering how his would fit inside of it that she realized what was going on.

Fie wasn't stupid, or stubborn, at least she liked to think she wasn't. Reality is reality. You can accept it, you can try to change it, but denying it does no good to any one. Another one of the boss's lessons, one she had taken to heart when she found herself abandoned. Trying to deny that situation just made it hurt all the worse when reality had persisted.

So, when she found herself in this situation, she recognized it for what it was and let herself accept it.

She had a crush on Elliot Craig.

Now, what could she do about that?

* * *

A/N: So, you remember how in Overprotective I said it was a sequel to a story I hadn't written yet? Well, that story is called How Do Flirting, which should also be up now. As I was writing it I realized that I needed a reason for Fie to have a crush on Elliot. Writing out that reason became nearly 3k words and had a completely different tone from the rest of the story, so I decided to just take it out and make it a seperate story to avoid tonal confusion. If you want to find out how Fie does deal with her crush, please look into the story "How Do Flirting" but be warned, it has a completely different tone. Thank you.


End file.
